Pages

Friday, 30 September 2016

Guest Author Dori Ann Dupre of North Carolina.

Dori Ann Dupré was born and raised in New Jersey. She
graduated magna cum laude with a
Bachelor of Science in History and is a veteran of the United States Army. Dori
currently works in the legal field in North Carolina, where she resides with
her family.

Scout’s
Honor is her first novel. Copyright is held by the author. Used with permission.

Scout’s Honor – a novel

My debut novel, Scout’s
Honor, is an epic tale about a young girl named Scout Webb, who suffers a profound
emotional trauma at the hands of an older man in a position of trust and then
how that experience affected her life as she went away to university as a young
woman and then later in her life as she faced middle age.

Scout’s Honor is written in first person by
multiple narrators, who fill each chapter individually. While the story is
Scout’s story and she is the protagonist, it is told with several perspectives,
including her best and closest lifetime friend, Charlie Porter, showing that
life isn’t necessarily always how we perceive it. People come into our lives,
some stay and some go, and each one affects it for better or for worse. While
we might think that we know what others were thinking or feeling, the truth is,
we most often do not.

Scout’s Honor is both a coming-of-age and self
discovery tale, dealing with many human relational issues such as self
acceptance, self identity, faith, forgiveness, trust, family, secrets,
betrayal, and love. But it is mostly about love. Scout’s Honor fits best in the contemporary fiction and southern
fiction genres; however, it is for everyone and anyone who enjoys a good story.

Lastly, and most importantly, Scout’s Honor’s book launch occurred as I sat in the chemotherapy
infusion center at the University of North Carolina Lineberger Cancer Hospital
in Chapel Hill, where my husband is being treated for Stage 4 Colon Cancer. I
wrote a blog post on my Launch Day experience, located at Finding
Dori. He was diagnosed with this most devastating disease in February, the
day before his 47th birthday. To say in words just how much this
tragic diagnosis has destroyed our lives would take many books. Anyone who has
been a similar experience knows what I mean.

There are not enough descriptions to convey the pain,
suffering, fear and horror that is a terminal cancer diagnosis at any age, but
certainly when you are still in the prime of your life. Because of what has happened
to my husband and my family, and because I refuse to accept that he is just
going to die, part of the profits I receive from the sales of my book and any
royalties I earn from my publisher, will go toward my Scout’s
Honor 2016 fundraiser which directly funds Colon Cancer Research at UNC
Lineberger.

People can donate to the fund directly and do not have to
buy my book at all. There has been so much progress in cancer research lately,
and the only hope that I have left is that there just might be a breakthrough
in time to save him. If there is not, I know that the funds raised through my
book’s launch will be used to save someone else.

In addition, I use my book events to educate people on
the need for a younger screening age for colon cancer. My husband is under 50
so he was never screened. Ten percent of new colon cancer cases are in people
under 50, and because there are no symptoms, the cancer is usually found in a
more advanced stage. Stage 3 colon cancer is a seventy percent survival rate
after five years. Stage 4 is a death sentence. Ten percent of good,
hardworking, younger people diagnosed with this cancer are apparently
acceptable collateral damage in our broken healthcare system. And that is
wrong.

Enjoy this excerpt from Part 3 of Scout’s Honor:

SCOUT

It’s always weird when I go back home
to Haddleboro. Every time I go to my parents’ house, I feel like I’m fourteen
years old again, just a little girl with a daughter of her own. A child with a
child. I sat on the bed in my old bedroom with my white dresser still in the
corner. Jemma’s duffle bag sat on the floor with a black dress lying over my
old desk chair. The room was still the same pale pink color that it had been
when Jemma and I moved out for good back in 1994 and into our first little
above-the-garage apartment just a few miles away.

Jemma was outside with my brother Jonny who brought over
his new dog, Leo. She hadn’t seen her uncle since Christmas and, since he was
moving to Atlanta next month, she was trying to make up for the time ahead that
would no longer be.

Tomorrow was Ms. Porter’s funeral. She
would be buried at the First Baptist Church’s cemetery, and Pastor Dan, the new
young pastor who took over for Pastor Rhodes when he retired last year, would
officiate. Charlie’s been staying at his mom’s house this week, trying to deal
with some of her paperwork and the many details of an untimely death, when
someone you love dies from an errant blood clot.

The day after I had been blindsided
with the discovery of what exactly my “friendship” actually meant to Thom
Robinson, I was at Paw’s trying to get a fecal sample from Mr. Moody’s German
shepherd named Venus. My cell phone rang and, seeing that it was my daddy’s
number, I let it go to voicemail because I was holding a Popsicle stick smeared
with dog poop at that particular moment.

Several minutes later, when I listened to Charlie’s very
deliberate voice tell me about what was going on with Ms. Porter, I finished
Venus’ exam as fast as I could and told Paw that I had a family emergency and
needed to get to Harper Hospital down in Fayetteville as soon as possible.

When I got there almost an hour later,
my parents were both with Charlie and I had never in my life seen him in such a
state. His face was ghostly white, like life itself had disappeared from his
body, and when he saw me, he grabbed onto me like he was a little boy again.
Sandy-haired little Charlie with the big toy dump truck that we’d push around
in the sun yellow kiddie pool.

Eventually, I got him to sit with me
on one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room and my daddy told me that
he and my mom were going to head up to Raleigh to let Boo out and go to Jemma’s
game. They would get her some supper and take her home afterward and would even
stay the night if I needed them to, so I could tend to Charlie.In my emotionally frazzled head, from
both the bizarre drama the night before with Thom and his daughter and now this
horrible tragedy with Charlie’s mom, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that
Jem had a game today and that my parents were planning to come up for it.

“Will you call Stephanie?” my mom
asked me. “We don’t have her number and Charlie forgot his cell phone in
Raleigh.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, my hands
tight on Charlie’s shoulders as he sat in the chair, frozen, paralyzed, by the
horrible shock of his loss.

Charlie has dealt with a ceaseless
amount of crime scenes and victims over the past several years — all kinds of
deaths, murders, rapes, shootings, suicides, stabbings, and some of the ugliest
things that human beings do to each other or do to themselves. His mother died
of natural causes on an average sunny spring day while working at the hardware
store and, instead of the thoughtful and stoic SBI agent, he just turned into
that sad little boy again, the one with no father, the one who had come up to
me at the church Easter egg hunt when we were five years old and asked me if he
could have one of my eggs.

I remembered it like it was yesterday.
I found ten plastic eggs during the hunt and each one was supposed to have
jellybeans in it. A towheaded boy in desperate need of a haircut with a red and
white striped shirt, blue shorts, and bare feet, walked up to me as I sat by myself under
an azalea bush near the steps of the church’s entrance. My mom had given me a
plastic pastel-colored basket she bought for a nickel from a yard sale and I
used it for this egg hunt, my very first one.

Eyeballing this scrawny boy who I had
never seen before, and who had ketchup smeared on the sides of his mouth, I
asked him who he was.

“Charlie Porter,” he answered.

“Where’s your mom and dad?” I asked
him, with the authority of an adult.

He turned and pointed at a young blond
woman in a peach colored sundress, sitting at one of the picnic tables by
herself. “That’s my mom.” Then he said, turning back at me, “I don’t have a
dad.”

I considered that for a second,
realizing that I had never heard of someone not having a dad before. So I
handed this Charlie Porter boy one of my eggs. It was purple. He opened it and
out dropped three jellybeans and a slip of paper.

“That’s the special egg,” I said to
him, excited that I was the one who found it.

“What’s a special egg?” he asked me.

“It’s the egg with the paper in it. It
means you get an extra prize,” I said, recalling Pastor Rhodes’ instructions
before the egg hunt began. “Take it over to Pastor Rhodes and he will give you
the prize.”

Charlie held the jellybeans in one
hand and the purple egg and piece of paper in the other. Then he handed the
piece of paper back to me. “Here, you should have the prize. You found the
special egg, not me.”

He was right. I did find it. But there
was something interesting about this strange little boy who was shorter than me
and who made me feel like we had been friends before, once upon a time and in a
land far, far away.

Not long ago, when I was in a drug
store, I read something on a greeting card that said, “Souls recognize each
other by vibes, not by appearances.” That was the best description I ever came
across about what transpired between me and Charlie Porter on that warm spring
day so long ago.

Taking the piece of paper from him, I
grabbed his hand and put it between our hands and held them together. I picked
up my basket and walked with him hand-in-hand, leading him over to Pastor
Rhodes who was standing next to the grill with the sizzling hotdogs.

“Pastor?” I said, getting his
attention. Pastor Rhodes looked down at me.

“Yes, Miss Scout,” he said smiling,
holding a pair of tongs in his hand.

“Charlie and I have found the special
egg,” I said, unclasping our hands and giving him the piece of paper.

Three minutes later, we were sitting
under a large dogwood tree, sharing the biggest chocolate bunny I’ve ever seen.
And now, twenty-nine years later, almost to the day that we shared that
chocolate bunny and became the best of friends, I held him in Harper Hospital
as he wept the kind of weeping that has no tears or noise, the kind of weeping
that a grown man does when he loses his mom forever.

“Charlie, we should go. There’s
nothing we can do here. The folks here have everything under control. I’ll take
you to your mom’s house and stay with you ‘til Stephanie can get there,” I
said, facing him on my knees, holding his hands as he held his head down in
sorrow. “If you’re not okay to drive, I’ll drive you. We can just leave your
car here and get it another time.”

Charlie looked at me, his eyes glassy
and full of despair. Then he looked down again and said, “It’s alright. I can
drive.”

“Okay,” I said, standing up. “I’ll
follow you to Haddleboro

.”

Thank you Dori Ann for sharing an excerpt from your entertaining novel.Please visit Dori Ann's website to discover more about this talented author.www.dorianndupre.com

Sure, you can leave a comment if you like. Would love to hear from you.

Google+ Badge

SHORTS Vol.1

The Ship Breakers - Breaking gigantic ships by hand is dangerous and gruelling work. Many workers are children. The wages are low. ( This story received Honorable Mention in the WFNB's short story competition) Lloyd and the Baby - A bachelor finds an abandoned baby. What does he do with it? The Shattered Figurine - Detective Josephine (Jo) Naylor is told where to find the next body with a plea to help the killer stop this madness. The Two Grumpy Old Man Cafe - The meals are delicious, the atmosphere perfect and the insults are free. Available at Amazon. Please CLICK on the book cover.

SHORTS Vol.2

Five engaging short stories that will keep you wanting more by this author. *Four Boxes of Memories – Lloyd Minister moves to a nursing home with his most important possessions and he can’t take everything with him. *Reaching the Pinnacle - Grandfather and granddaughter hike the highest mountain in their province. Around the campfire, the young lady has something important to tell her Gramps. *Pioneers in a Hurry - A fond recollection of three grown men acting like boys on an all-night camping trip. Being mischievous comes naturally. *Near Dead - Detective Jo Naylor finds herself in the dark. She’s not alone. Someone wants her dead. *Six Jutlands and a Conestoga - The Verhoeven family have everything they own in a wagon, children and all. The mysterious west beckons. Available at Amazon. Please click on the book cover.

SHORTS Vol.3

Letting Go - a son deals with his deceased father's "boxes of memories". One Bedroom Ark - Noah Coyne owns a convenience story, the last customer of the night will change his life. Two Boys, One Wagon and a Secret - In the 50's, a young boy's pride was a red wagon. What do they discover one day when they are out filling it up with returnables? No Dying Today - Det. Jo Naylor and her partner search for the man that tried to kill her last night. The Food Bank - some people have too much food, others not enough.Available at Amazon. Please CLICK on the book cover.

Blooger's Award.

Thank you Susan Toy.

Family and Friends.

Nieces Pam Cottrell and Jackie Beers

Total Pageviews

What's New?

Please check out the new Detective Jo Naylor serialization on the Page bar above. New additions coming soon. Follow the story here on the Scribbler.

Paperback copies of Dark Side of a Promise are available at Chapters - Regent Mall, Fredericton, NB. Cover to Cover in Riverview, NB. And from the Author.

Allan Hudson

About Me

My mother taught me to read, to like books, when I was very young. She also taught me how to write. I grew up in the country, even went to a one-room school which was right across the road from our house. She was the teacher. The days I missed were few. I enjoy reading and some of my favorite authors are Bryce Courtenay, Beth Powning, Dennis LeHane, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Cara Brookins, Susan Toy, Jason Lawson, Lockie Young, Chuck Bowie, Harlan Coben, Leon Uris and Herman Wouk.Writing is so much fun and even though I started later in life, I am so happy to realize my dream. Having this blog so I can share other people's work gives me great pleasure.

I've had many adventures in my life. I've travelled throughout North America, gone skydiving, rock climbing, wilderness camping. I craft stained glass and I enjoy woodworking. I'm blessed with many good friends. I live in the seaside community of Cocagne, New Brunswick, Canada. My wife's name is Gloria. My son's name is Adam and my stepsons' names are Christopher (Mireille) and Mark (Nathalie) Young. My grandchildren are Matthieu, Natasha and Damien. I love them all.Thank you for visiting. I hope you enjoy my blog. You can reach me by leaving a comment and/or your email address below and I'll respond.

A new Drake Alexander novel

Coming soon...

The Douglas Kyle Memorial Award for Fiction

My story - The Ship Breakers - received Honorable Mention in the Douglas Kyle Memorial awards for New Brunswick Writers Federation's short story category. It's featured in SHORTS Vol.1

The Dark Side of a Promise

Dark Side of a Promise is an edgy, international thriller. A tale of Revenge! Drake Alexander follows the trail of one of the world’s deadliest men which leads him to the unlikeliest locations – Bangladesh, the country of rivers. Bartolo Rizzato murdered his best friend’s sister. Why is he in Asia? It can only be to steal or kill! When Alexander finds him, will he deliver on his promise? (Go to comment box in Novel section above to see what one reader says about the novel) Only $4.99 from Amazon. Please CLICK on the book cover.